


Last forever

by pseudosmodingium



Series: Getting bi 'verse [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Anal Sex, Frottage, M/M, Prequel, The 90s, Titanic References, Top Castiel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-13
Updated: 2019-01-13
Packaged: 2019-10-09 11:59:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,717
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17406500
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pseudosmodingium/pseuds/pseudosmodingium
Summary: These are supposed to be the best years of Castiel’s life and college finally lives up to his expectations when he meets a cute Brit named Mick. With him, Cas learns to be himself and what it means to grow up when the idle days are slowly but surely coming to an end.





	Last forever

**Author's Note:**

> This is the Cas/Mick prequel I wanted to do ever since writing their scences in [Getting bi](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16589351/chapters/3887699). Now it's done!
> 
> Warning for major _Titanic_ spoilers ;)

****

**_1998_ **

 

After letting herself in without waiting for an answer after her single knock on the door, Meg drops her backpack on the floor and casually jumps onto Castiel’s bed. She’s still wearing her boots and leather jacket.

“I told you not to do that,” he says without looking up from his notepad.

Meg’s gum bubble bursts with a small _pop_. “Do what?” she mumbles, too busy chewing.

“You can’t just walk in here like you own the place. I could’ve been masturbating.”

“You always say that—,” she sits up, still munching, “Yet, you never do.”

“You say that like you _want_ to walk in on me.” He’s finished the paragraph and puts down the pen.

“Maybe,” Meg says and starts looking around, though seemingly without a purpose.

“Hey,” Cas says then and gets up from the desk. He walks over to his bed and pushes Meg’s heavily booted feet aside to make some room for himself to sit. “Where did you disappear to on Saturday? I saw you with those guys and the next moment you were gone. I tried to call you yesterday.”

“Yeah,” she says, “they invited me to go on a camping trip.”

“In the middle of the night? In the middle of a party? And you hate nature. Don’t tell me you slept in a tent.”

“I didn’t sleep in a tent, no.” She’s breathing loudly between chews.

Cas is raising his brows in an attempt to acquire more details.

“There was no tent,” she continues. “This one dude, Al, he has a truck. We and his gang drove outside of town. There was a campfire and lots of beer.”

“Let me guess,” Cas says, “you and this Al guy made out.”

“Nah,” she replies, open-mouthed and Cas can see her gum. It’s blue and so is her tongue.

“He’s ugly as hell. I made out with this cute friend of his. Didn’t catch his name.”

“Ah,” Cas says. He’s not even mad anymore that he got left behind.

“Speaking of which,” she says then and wriggles into a cross-legged sitting position. “What’s his name?”

“Whose name?”

“Don’t pretend you don’t know who I’m talking about.”

“Meg, if you want gossip, I need you to be more precise.” Of course, he knows what she’s prying on, but it’s not like there’s much to tell anyway.

“The guy you’ve been flirting with. Dark hair, cute face—I want the deets!”

“I wasn’t flirting,” he says while feeling the heat rise up to his cheeks.

Before he even sees it coming, Meg has wrestled him on his back.

“You’re an awful liar,” she says, hunching above him.

“Okay, okay, I’ll talk,” Cas says and Meg drops to his side on the mattress, facing him, propped up on one elbow.

Cas sighs. “His name is Mick. He’s from England.”

“Oh, British. Hot,” Meg comments.

“And his family is rich.”

“Ha, jackpot!”

“Shut up,” he says but can’t conceal a smile.

“What did you guys talk about?”

“Not much. Just…stuff. What classes we’re in, what our major is, what kind of music we like.”

“Did you get his number?”

“Actually,” Cas says and proceeds to retrieve his wallet from his back pocket. “I did.” He pulls out a business card and hands it to Meg.

“What _is_ that?” she says, simultaneously confused and repelled.

“Right?” Cas agrees and sits up again. “I mean, what college kid runs around handing out business cards to their peers? Why does he even have those? It’s not like he has a job.”

“But he’s got money. Rich people, you know. So he’s a little bit eccentric, whatever. You should still go on a date with him. I mean, he gave you his card for a reason.”

“I don’t know…”

“Yes, you do,” Meg says and sits up as well. “You haven’t stopped smiling since I’ve brought him up and he’s cute and you’ll forever regret it if you don’t take this opportunity.”

“I’m not even sure I’m into guys,” Cas murmurs, looking away from her.

“Cut the crap, Clarence. Besides, college is the right place to find out. Live, experience! These are supposed to be the best days of our lives. So go get that guy and find out if he’s got a nice looking penis.”

“Your speech was really inspiring until the last bit,” Cas points out but Meg ignores him in favor of reaching for the phone.

“Call him,” she insists and hands him the receiver.

“What am I supposed to say?” Cas asks. His hands feel clammy all of a sudden.

“Ask him if he wants to go on a date with you.”

“You sure? Maybe I should just ask him to hang out, be more casual about it. ”

“Were you two flirting that night or not?” Meg almost shouts at him.

Cas takes a moment to consider. He remembers Mick blatantly looking him up and down. He made his intentions perfectly clear.

“Gimme that,” he says and punches Mick’s number into the phone.

 

Cas is occupying a table at the campus coffee shop. They arranged a coffee date, nothing more. Totally easy-going. Then he sees Mick enter and is quickly detected. No running away now.

“Hey there,” Mick says as he walks closer and opens the buttons on his coat.

“Hello,” Cas says.

“Have you ordered yet?” Mick asks.

“No, I was waiting for you.”

“What’re you having?”

“Uh, I was thinking, a cappuccino?” _Why does it sound like a question?_

Mick stops the waitress who is walking by and orders two cappuccinos before Cas can even open his mouth.

“I’m glad you called,” he says after taking off his coat and taking a seat. He’s resting both hands on the table and Cas withdraws his a little. He doesn’t need anyone else around to know that this is a date.

“I’m glad you said yes,” Cas replies.

“I don’t give out my card to anyone,” Mick says with a smirk.

The waitress arrives with both their coffees. Business is slow right now, just the odd study group and a few scattered single people reading or writing while listing to music with headphones on.

“My treat,” Mick says and hands the waitress a twenty.

“You didn’t have to,” Cas tries to argue but Mick slightly raises his hand, signaling him to stop right there.

“So, tell me something about yourself,” Mick says after a short pause, opening a pack of sugar.

“Well, you already know that my major is Art History and that I intend to switch to Business Economics.”

“A wise decision if I dare say,” Mick interjects. “Though I get the appeal of studying the creative works great human minds have produced.”

“You’re interested in art and design?”

“My family has collected quite a handful of masterpieces over the last few decades, so you can say I was brought up to take an interest.”

“Really? Does your family own anything I might know?”

Mick slowly puts down the spoon he’s been stirring his coffee with and leans towards Cas, getting really close to his face as the table is not very big. “If I told you that,” he says, “I’d have to kill you.”

He withdraws again and brings the cup to his lips. Cas just sits there, dumbstruck, until a smile appears on Mick’s face. The cappuccino has left a white mustache behind. “For insurance reasons,” he clarifies and licks the foam from his upper lip.

“Oh,” Cas breathes, still not relaxed.

“No, seriously,” Mick says and leans forward again. “Maybe when I know you better, I could name-drop an artist or two.”

“Cool,” Cas says and quickly raises his cup to conceal his embarrassment, only to burn his lip with the coffee.

“Shit,” he curses and almost spills his drink when puts it down in a hurry.

“Everything alright?” Mick asks and lays a hand on Cas’s wrist. The gesture makes him forget the pain for a moment.

“Mhm,” he says.

Mick still hasn’t taken his hand away. His thumb begins to gently stroke Cas’s skin as the silence continues and Cas is glad that he’s wearing a sweater or otherwise Mick would see how the hairs on his arms are rising up.

“Thanks for the coffee,” Cas says then because he can’t come up with something else to say.

“You make it sound like this date is already over.”

“No!” Cas insists, too loudly, but none of the other guests appear to have noticed or care. “No,” he says again, more calmly. “It’s just—I’m a bit nervous. This is actually my first date with another guy.”

“I figured,” Mick says and lets out a small, empathetic laugh.

The rest of the date goes more smoothly but Cas continues to be intimidated by Mick’s wealth and confidence. As it turns out, though, Mick lives on campus in a dorm with a roommate, just like him. He does his laundry by himself like every other student and he eats whatever the cafeteria or the nearest McDonald’s have to offer.

“My father wanted me to go to Oxford like he and my grandfather and great-grandfather before me but I wanted to break with the tradition. I’ve always wanted to live here, in America. I’m bored of the English upper class. And I could convince him to let me go by telling him that I’d return as one of them, basically an American, which would certainly improve our business relations.”

“So you’re going back after graduation?” Cas asks.

They’ve left the coffee shop and are now strolling along campus. It’s still rather cold outside but the fresh night air adds something to the atmosphere of their date.

“I don’t know yet if I’m being quite honest. But I’d definitely like to extend my stay here beyond college. You Yankees have grown on me.”

They continue walking for a while, staying quiet, until Cas realizes they’ve reached his dorm. “I live here,” he says.

“And I a few more minutes along the way,” Mick says. “I guess this means good night then.”

“I guess so.”

On the one hand, Cas is grateful that this date is soon to be over so he can finally take a breather, on the other hand, he enjoyed the time with Mick and he’s anxious that if he lets him go now, he won’t see him again.

“What are you doing on Friday?” Mick asks, interrupting his thoughts.

“Uh, I don’t have any plans yet. Why?”

“I’d like to take you out again.”

“Really?” It’s humiliating how surprised this came out but gratefully Mick doesn’t comment on his reaction.

“How about the movies?”

“Yeah, I’d like that.”

“Excellent. I’ll give you a ring.”

“Do you have my number?”

“Caller ID, yes. By the way, is the lip still hurting?”

“Barely, why?” Cas asks.

A second later Mick is pressing a tender kiss against his lips. “Good night, Castiel,” he says and leaves him, staring with a dropped jaw as Mick disappears in the dark.

 

The movie theatre is located in walking distance to the campus. Cas offered to pick Mick up from his dorm room on the way. The door is open, the Smashing Pumpkins buzzing from the stereo on the side of the room that is obviously not Mick’s. The roommate is lying on his bed, too engrossed into a magazine to notice Cas. Mick is nowhere to be seen, though it’s definitely the right room. It says so on the door sign, right under ‘Bart’.

Cas opens his mouth to get Bart’s attention but before he can say anything, he feels a warm hand between his shoulder blades.

“Ready to go?” Mick says.

“Um, yeah,” Cas breathes and follows Mick down the corridor.

It’s only late afternoon but they reckoned the theatre wouldn’t be so full at that time. Also, secretly, Cas proposed a screening at 5 p.m. to make the two of them look more like two dudes hanging out than a rendezvous, though the plan went sideways when he suggested to see _Titanic_. Again. It was meant as a joke, however, Mick thought it was a suitable choice for a date.

Meg made fun of him when he told her because he had already seen the movie three times. There was a reason why it won so many Oscars, duh!

At least, Cas was able to persuade Mick to pay for his own ticket and popcorn.

When they’re comfortably seated, Mick leans closer to his ear and asks, “Did you cry when you first saw it?”

Cas swallows hard. Did he cry? No. He _sobbed,_ like a baby, when Rose realized that Jack was gone and had to eventually let go of him. Luckily, though, he wasn’t alone in this. The entire theatre burst into tears simultaneously. Then, when he had finally managed to regain his cool, Old Rose had to throw the necklace into the ocean and revive all the lost souls in her dreams. Castiel sat through the entire closing credits, pulling the hood of his sweater deep down on his face.

The second time, he thought he’d be more prepared because he knew what was about to happen. Well, turns out he was wrong.

The third time, Meg was with him and loudly screamed “That’s bullshit!” when Jack’s frozen body sank beneath the surface.

“A little,” he says in response to Mick’s question. “Did you?”

“I might have shed a tear or two, yes. It’s very touching.”

Touching is not the word Cas would have used, rather than devastating, but whatever.

The room darkens and the trailers and commercials start.

Mick is sitting so close to him, yet Cas doesn’t dare to touch. Some time into the movie, Mick shifts in his seat and spreads his legs more so that his knee ends up touching Cas’s.

The sudden contact paralyzes him at first but when the shock has worn off, he becomes bolder and moves his leg, their knees touching with enough pressure now for it to be more than a happy accident. It starts to feel weird, though, when Rose drops her robe, being left bare to the eyes of Jack and the audience, and he pulls away, the spot where they touched now feeling ice-cold.

Soon after that, intermission starts.

“Do you have to go to the loo?” Mick asks.

“No,” Cas says.

“Did her tits turn you on?” Mick says and Cas can feel all blood draining from his face.

“ _No,_ ” he insists in a high-pitched voice.

“Then what does?” Mick is close to his ear again, the warmth from his mouth hitting his ear as he speaks and Cas is getting goosebumps. He’s breathing fast now.

“I—” he croaks. His throat is too dry to use proper speech.

Mick is staring at him, amused.

“Do you,” Cas starts again and clears his throat. “Do you want to see the rest? ‘Cause I wouldn’t mind if we leave now. I know how it ends.”

“Whatever you like,” Mick says and gets onto his feet. Cas follows suit and they leave the theatre.

“Where to?” Mick asks him when they’re out on the sidewalk.

“My roommate drove to his parents for the weekend,” Cas offers and Mick proceeds to walk back towards campus.

Cas is nervous. He doesn’t know why he mentioned that he’s having the room to himself. What is Mick expecting of him? What is _he_ expecting?

They’re walking next to each other, leisurely. Mick pulls a pack of cigarettes out of his coat pocket and offers him one. Cas declines and Mick, gladly, puts them back without lighting one for himself. He doesn’t want him to taste like an ashtray when they make out. And Cas is very hopeful that they’re going to make out.

“Welcome to my room,” Cas says and mentally chastises himself for how stupid that sounded.

Mick dismisses his coat onto the nearest chair and points to the bed which he assumes is Cas’s, giving him a look that anticipates confirmation. Cas nods and Mick sits on his bed.

Cas remains standing in the middle of the room, torn whether to join Mick or opt for his roommate’s bed. Mick decides for him and pats the empty spot next to him so Cas takes a seat there.

“I like your room,” he says, “it’s cozy.”

“Thanks,” Cas mumbles.

“Hey, don’t be so stiff,” Mick says and reassuringly rubs his arm. “I won’t bite.”

“I know.”

“We can just talk if you want. I don’t mind.”

“Okay.” Cas pulls off his shoes and shifts further onto the bed so he can lean against the wall.

“I assume you have done this often, been with a guy I mean,” he says then.

“I’m not easy if that’s what you’re implying.”

“No, that’s not what I was—” Cas hurries, preparing the apology in his head but then he sees the smug smile on Mick’s face.

“Don’t do that!” he whines and lightly smacks Mick’s arm. “You know I’m nervous about this.”

“I’m sorry,” Mick laughs. “You’re just too adorable.”

Cas takes a deep breath. “Could we be serious for a moment?”

“Of course,” Mick says and gets rid of his shoes as well so he can scoot closer on the bed.

“I’ve never really had someone to talk to about this,” Cas says and looks down at this lap. “When did you realize you’re, you know, gay? You are gay, right?”

“I’m here with you, aren’t I?”

“Yeah, I know.” He can’t really express with words what he’s trying to say. He’s kissed girls. He’s had sex with a girl. His high school girlfriend April. He kinda liked having sex with her. Yet, he’s always had this feeling that he might be gay.

“So, when did you find out?” Cas resumes.

“It took a while,” Mick says, “I went to an all-boys boarding school. The only girls I knew from the age of elven on where my sister and my cousins and the daughters of old nobility guys whose arses my father used to kiss—and those were fuck ugly. Of course we had contraband porn magazines and stuff and bragged about shagging each other’s sisters. But in hindsight the biggest indicator for me being gay was that my favorite days of the week were when we had rugby practice. The showers afterwards were thrilling, in both a good and a bad way.”

“And what about your first experience with another boy?”

“Oh, that was fun,” Mick says, smiling to himself. “I was in year ten and this boy, Timothy, he was older, in year 12 I think, we were hanging out in the material room next to the Biology lab. I liked him because he always had smokes and he gave me my first beer. We were just talking and then he asked me out of nowhere if I had ever kissed a girl. I lied and said yes. And then he asked if I ever wanted to kiss a boy.”

Cas finds himself leaning towards Mick as the story is getting more exciting.

“I didn’t know if he was fucking with me or if he was being serious so I said I had never thought about it. I guess he knew this wasn’t an honest answer because he laughed and told me to try it. I asked if he meant with him and he said yes. So I did. And boy, was I into it, growing rock-hard in seconds. There was this mischievous smile on his face and he started to open his trousers with one hand. I thought I was dreaming and gaped liked an idiot when he pulled out his cock and began to wank, completely unashamed. ‘Could use some help,’ he said and pulled me into another kiss, navigating my hand to his cock. I almost came in my pants, I tell ya. He got into my pants while I was working him and then we kissed while rubbing each other off.”

Cas always thought about boarding schools being an awful thing. He could never imagine being away from his family all the time as a kid but in this moment it sounds just awesome.

“Huh,” he says.

Mick looks at his lips for a brief moment before staring back into the room. Cas can’t take it any longer. He turns Mick’s head to the side with a palm on his cheek and kisses him, hungrily, tongue sliding into his mouth. He tastes like the salt and butter from the popcorn.

“I’m glad the story got you going,” Mick breathes when they eventually pull apart.

“It’s a good story,” Cas says, short-winded.

“I must say I’m getting a bit warm here. What about you?”

“I’m not breaking a sweat so easily,” Cas says. Actually, he’s fucking hot but the look on Mick’s face is worth the lie.

“Suit yourself,” Mick says and slips out of his pullover.

Cas hitches a breath. “Maybe,” he says, “I could take this off, too. Out of solidarity,” and starts to pull the sweater over his head but his T-shirt gets caught in it and fixing this would only make it awkward so he just goes with it as if he’d intended to.

Mick’s eyes go wide as he takes a deep inhale at the sight of him.

“Lovely,” he says and splays a hand on Cas’s chest, gently pushing him onto his back. Then he sheds his shirt as well and leans over him.

The view of Mick’s biceps next to his head makes him shudder. He’s already hard but this sends an extra rush of blood south.

They’re back to kissing and the touch of skin and skin makes this a hundred times hotter. Cas’s hands are roaming over Mick’s back, grasping his hair, feeling the muscles of his arms. Mick’s lips leave his and begin to wander onto his jaw, under his ear, making contact with his neck and sending a shiver down his spine. He places both hands on the sides of Mick’s face and moves him so that they’re looking at each other. He’s so gorgeous. Mick turns his head slightly to kiss Cas’s palm and Cas pulls him down again. He dares to slide a hand onto his jeans, cautiously gripping his ass—an act that apparently motivates Mick to leave his mouth once more and trail kisses along his neck and chest, only to quickly return to Cas’s lips while simultaneously testing the waters with a grasp at his crotch and Cas groans into Mick’s mouth.

“Fuck,” Cas lets out as Mick leans back to take a look at the reaction he’s caused.

“Fuck yeah or fuck no?” Mick asks.

“Fuck yeah,” Cas replies and with a grin on his lips, Mick presses another, languid kiss on his mouth as smooth fingers find their way to his belt. The buckle tinkles as its being opened, then the button and zipper and Mick hauls his jeans halfway down his thighs. Cas is trembling in anticipation. Mick’s lips find Cas’s stomach. It tickles but he holds back a giggle. Kissing, he makes his way further down his abdomen, reaching the edge of Cas’s boxers. Fingertips hook under the waistband and with a swift motion, his erection is freed to the chill air of the room.

“That’s a beautiful cock you have there,” Mick says, giving it a firm squeeze and Cas gasps. Without another word, Mick hunches over and sucks him down. Cas could come just from the sight of this, Mick’s head steadily bobbing in his lap, though there’s so much more—the heat, the wetness, saliva dribbling from Mick’s kiss-swollen lips.

He pulls off. “Don’t come yet,” Mick says, his voice rough from just having a cock down his throat. He works open his own pants and pushes them over his knees. Then he moves his body over Cas’s so that their groins align. His dick is solid, the head throbbing with blood. He sinks lower and their erections touch. Cas is exhilarated, clutching Mick’s shoulders who says, a little strained, “Could use some help,” his expression never losing its impishness though, and he wraps a strong hand around both their cocks, Cas following his example, and together they jerk off, kissing sloppily.

Cas can’t keep his hips still and, without restraint, fucks into their joined hands, Mick doing the same. Cas comes first and Mick uses the welcome lubrication of his release to pick up the pace and buries his face into the crook of Cas’s neck.

Cas strokes the back of his head, soothing him as the thrill of his climax wears off.

Eventually, Mick regains enough strength to lift his head and look him in the eye. They both laugh.

“That was pretty hot,” Cas says.

“Apparently not hot enough,” Mick sighs, prompting a frown from Cas.

“You didn’t even break a sweat,” he clarifies. “I can do better.”

Cas chuckles and pulls him into another kiss.  
  
****  
  
With a clang, the couch drops, generating an echo in the rather empty room.

“I regret not wanting to waste money on movers,” Mick sighs and drops onto the cushions, dramatically laying an arm on his forehead.

Cas takes his chance and moves to sit on him with his legs on either side of his boyfriend’s waist. “Told you so,” he says as he bows down to kiss him. Mick lets out a content laugh.

They kiss again and Cas wiggles his ass a little in his lap to tease him. _“Hit me baby one more time,”_ he sings along with the TV. At least, they’ve already gotten this to work.

Mick hums against his lips.

“Oh baby, baby,” Cas continues but Meg interferes with their make-out session.

“There’s still stuff in the car,” she calls from the hallway but half a minute later she joins them in the living room. “Move,” she commands and when Cas lets go of Mick with a sigh and shifts to sit on the couch instead, she squeezes in between.

“I am exhausted,” she says, stretching out her arms to put them over Cas and Mick’s shoulders.

Cas isn’t mad at her, though, for the disturbance. She’s one of the few people he and Mick can act naturally around. No side eyes, no snarky comments. They can just be together as they are. Of course, with the money from Mick’s family they could have easily afforded a place of their own, but they’ve only been together for a few months and Cas doesn’t feel ready yet to live with a partner— _only_ with them. He’s in his second year of college, so clearly too young to get so serious with someone.

“I think I’ll put my CD collection right in this corner,” she says, pointing at the corner next to an empty sideboard that the previous tenants left behind.

“How about you put it in your room?” Mick suggests.

“Don’t have enough space in there,” she says.

“We gave you the bigger room,” Cas points out, rather loudly, “and, other than us, you won’t have to share it with someone.”

“Occasionally, I will,” she says, casually, “and besides, we already agreed for the stereo to go on that sideboard. It’s only logical to have my CDs right next to it.”

No-one can argue with that.

Cas drops his head on her shoulder. He’s so glad to, from now on, have his best friend and boyfriend around all the time. No crappy dorm rooms any more. They’ll have a door to shut behind them whenever they want and a bathroom that is far less communal than it was on campus. They also can have people over whenever they want and some day their parents might even allow his sister to visit. After all, they don’t officially know who exactly he’s living with. Well, they know it’s Meg and Mick. And they know that they rented a two-bedroom apartment although there are three of them. So they are probably aware of his relationship with Mick but chose not to comment on it. Or maybe they’re hoping Meg is his girlfriend now, who knows. Cas actually never kept it a secret that he and Mick have been dating for the past few months. He gave them tiny hints here and there, speaking of Mick rather often. But, in their defense, he never used the words _boyfriend_ or _gay_ opposite them either.

However, he told his little sister when he was home during summer break. She squealed in excitement and Cas made her promise not to tell any living soul—a promise she broke the next day when her friends came to the house for a sleepover, their parents leaving Cas in charge because they went away for the weekend.

Most of Hannah’s friends had always had kind of a crush on him but finding out that he was gay now made him even more appealing to them. Girls in middle school are weird.

“What if your parents come to visit one day?” Mick asks all of a sudden as if he’s had his exact same thoughts. “They will want to see where you live.”

“Yes, what will they say when they find out that you’ve decided to become a homosexual?” Meg adds with a fake tone of scandal.

“If they disown me, I can still get a job to pay the rent. Though, I suppose the worst that’ll happen is that we can add this to the list of things we don’t talk about and during Christmas dinner I’ll have to pretend to be straight in order to not give Auntie Naomi a heart attack.”

“At least they’d feel some kind of emotion about their son being gay,” Mick throws in, “my parents don’t give a fuck about my private life. I suppose they only had children so there was someone to inherit their fortune and they could educate them in increasing it when they no longer can’t.”

“Wait,” Meg says, “I thought your parents know that you’re gay.”

“Yes, they do. And it’s fine for them as long as I bring a suitable, female date to an event.”

“Are they expecting you to marry a girl, too?”

“My sister is married to some snob from Kensington and already gave them an heir, uh, a grandchild I mean… So I guess I’m off the hook.” He laughs. Mick would rather live in a shack than do whatever his parents want him to, Cas knows that. He may be used to money but his freedom is more important to him than anything else. That’s why he’s here, with them, and not reciting poems while rowing a boat down a river, or whatever it is they do at the University of Oxford.

After a while, they find the strength to get up again and get the rest of their stuff from Castiel’s car while Meg stays on the couch, hypnotized by whatever MTV currently has to offer. The mattress they bought— _thanks, Mick’s mom and dad_ —fits into the far end of their room just so, not an inch between bed and wall on either side. The room is narrow, almost like a hallway, but long enough for them to fit a desk and two bookcases inside. At least the closet is rather big in relation to the room.

It’s well into the night when they have finished unpacking. They had a pizza while Cas hung a few shelves in Meg’s and the living room and Mick decorated theirs.

“Oscar Wilde?” he says when sees the fruits of his labor for the first time.

“A gay icon,” Mick states, “he graced us with his art and suffered for our sins.”

Cas snickers and shakes his head. “I love you,” he says before pulling Mick into a kiss.

They waste no time to properly break in their new bed on their first night here. There’s no hurry as there’s no roommate who might return sooner than expected and the bed is big so they have a lot of space to move around and stretch out their limbs. If Meg comments the next morning on the noise she heard coming from their room, it’s only because they didn’t have to stay quiet for once.

 

 

**_2000_ **

 

Cas gets woken up in the middle of a dream that he immediately forgets when the unpleasant reality of consciousness strikes him. It’s bright and cold in the room and his right hand blindly searches for a pillow to shield the morning sun from his eyes.

“Wakey-wakey,” Mick’s far too cheerful voice offends his ears. The bed dips under his weight as he jumps onto the foot end. “Come on, Cas, it’s almost nine.”

“Too early,” Cas slurs with the pillow over his face. He groans when he feels the blanket being dragged from him and exposing his chest.

“We’ve got no time to waste,” Mick says, “two full weeks to just the two of us.”

For the first time since they moved here, Meg is gone for more than a night. Of course, there were longer periods of her being away but always at the same time as everyone else was gone, like Christmas for example. For two weeks there won’t be any disturbances. He loves Meg, sure, Mick does too, but she isn’t exactly…discreet. At one occasion she burst into their room in the middle of the night because she needed a condom. Another time she came into the bathroom while he and Mick were in the shower together because she needed to pee.

“Leave me alone,” Cas mumbles. “I’m sleeping.”

“Well, parts of you are awake,” Mick says and Cas can hear the smirk in his tone. Regardless of that, he is right. Cas has some serious morning wood and wonders how his body can betray him like this. _Just one more hour._

It’s actually the first time in a few months that he could sleep in. His internship in the sales department of a local TV channel ended yesterday and he had initially planned on being as lazy as possible until the new semester starts.

He squirms when Mick begins to kiss his neck. “I hate you,” he whines but Mick has no mercy with him, mouthing at his sternum, thumbs flicking his nipples as he works his way downwards.

Cas still has the pillow over his head but he is wide awake now, focusing on all the things Mick does to him. The blanket disappears from his body, the chill of the new day making him shudder under Mick’s attentive hands. He bucks his hips so Mick can remove his boxers and sighs when his erection gets the first firm squeeze, Mick’s warm grip bringing him to full hardness. Then it’s cold again, just for a second though, and a slick hand is back at his cock before Mick shifts on the mattress, his legs now framing his hips, and he begins to sink down on him. He’s so warm and Cas can feel his asshole clenching every time he moves upwards. He does this on purpose, Cas knows, and it’s fucking spectacular.

Finally, he throws the pillow to the side. His eyes hurt for a moment but they quickly get used to the light and his breathing falters for a second when he sees Mick moving on top of him.

His eyes are closed, lower lip between his teeth, and he’s caressing his own chest with one hand, the other steadying him on Cas’s hip.

Cas lifts his ass a little, meeting Mick halfway and he opens his eyes and a soft smile appears on his face when he realizes he’s being watched. “Morning,” he says and Cas pulls him down for a filthy, wet kiss.

“You cheeky little bastard,” Cas says and swiftly rolls them over, Mick on his back now, and kisses him once again, hard. His cock has slipped out in the process and he, gruffly, orders Mick to turn around. In response he receives a wide-eyed, hungry look before Mick does as he’s told, shuffling underneath him to get on all fours, and Cas grabs him by the hip to keep him in place before pushing back inside him.

Mick grunts at every thrust, Cas kissing the back of his neck to make up for the roughness with which he’s fucking into him, then slowing down a bit and turning Mick’s head enough to allow their lips to meet.

“I love you,” Cas breathes into his mouth, maintaining steady thrusts as one hand slides lower, along Mick’s stomach, reaching the trail of soft hair that leads to his groin until his fingers close around his cock.

“Cas,” Mick sighs as he begins to pump him, slowly at first.

Gradually, Cas picks up the pace, counting both areas he’s going at, and Mick tenses in his arms, Cas burying his nose in his hair, and Mick comes with a final grunt. Cas strokes him through his orgasm, continuing to fuck him, oversensitive now and with a last spurt of ecstasy, he presses Mick’s body to his chest and comes, hard.

“Shit,” Mick pants when Cas lets go of him and he drops with his back onto the mattress.

Cas is breathing fast, his heartbeat a dull throb in his ears. He feels dizzy and his spent body plops down next to Mick’s.

“You alright?” Mick asks.

“Yeah,” Cas gasps, running a hand through his disheveled hair. There are actual beads of sweat in the hollow of his throat. Mick notices.

“Man, you’ve outdone yourself,” he says and they laugh and end up kissing, without hesitation, though, and ten minutes later they’ve both fallen asleep.

 

They spend their days doing nothing much. In the evenings, they watch TV, during the day they read or fuck or go out and hang with Zeke and his street artist friends who’ve recently rented a small gallery, more of a warehouse actually, and Cas has this newly-awakened sense of missing out. Maybe it was the wrong decision to change his major after all. He loves art and contemplates joining Zeke’s small collective but Mick only makes fun of him when he tells him.

He’s right, though. Becoming a famous artist who can actually make a living out of his job takes time, persistence and an enormous chunk of luck. And Cas isn’t even that talented. He’s both impressed and jealous of what Zeke and his friends create and Cas knows very well that he’ll never match up to them, particularly when he’s already years behind them.

“I love you,” Mick says, “but please be realistic about this. I know you like to draw from time to time and you’re not bad at it—”

“I know. But a boy can dream.”

“Of course you can,” Mick says and gives him a quick kiss on the lips. “I will never forget how your face lit up when you visited my parents’ house.”

This year, during spring break, Mick invited him to London and Cas met his parents for the very first time. They were alright but much more fascinating was their house. Right after entering, they came into a huge entrée and were greeted by nothing less than a real, actual Rodin. Cas was speechless. It didn’t feel like coming into his boyfriend’s parents’ home rather than into a museum. There was so much expensive stuff and Cas barely dared to sit down when he was offered a seat in what they, in all earnest, called the _sitting room._ Obviously, Cas hadn’t realized until then how rich Mick’s family was. He knew that they had a rather extensive art collection but Cas never really thought about what this entailed. Also, he supposed that all this stuff would be hidden in a vault somewhere and he later learned that there _is_ a vault, but some of the artworks are exhibited in the house. Where people live. And in the Davies’s circles you had to show off a little. Or a lot. So if there was a study that might have come from the hands of Michelangelo himself but more likely from one of his pupils in the guestroom Cas stayed in, than that’s just peanuts compared to what they don’t show around.

He still doesn’t get why Mick chose to live in a small apartment with only unframed posters on the wall instead of something that could go under the hammer at Christie’s when he could afford everything in the world. A question that he’s only ever waved off like it’s nothing.

“We won’t live like this forever. This is college life, Cas, the true experience. Things are gonna change after our graduation.”

An explanation both logical and ambiguous. Mick always said he wants to stay in the U.S. Yet, Cas isn’t so sure anymore. What if he decides to go back to England? What will become of them? Do they break up, try a long-distance relationship, should Cas come with him? Cas’s head is spinning from the number of options.

“Now is not the time,” he says to his reflection in the bathroom mirror. They’ve still got their entire senior year before anyone needs to make a choice.

Cas is making them breakfast almost every morning. Scrambled eggs or pancakes, it varies. Then they sit at the kitchen table in comfortable silence, sipping tea and reading the newspaper. The realization that this is what adults do gives Cas a tickly warm feeling in his tummy.

He glances over at Mick who looks so cute and concentrated. He’s reading the Wall Street Journal. He does so every morning ever since he returned from England after last Christmas. His father probably got into his head a bit, talking about the importance of the family business while feasting on Yorkshire Pudding and Mince Pie. Mick never wanted to become a part of this. Sure, some people would kill for getting the opportunity of a top level job right after college.

“How’s the stock market?” Cas asks without a grin.

“A mess,” Mick says without further explanation. Sure, Cas knows what’s going on, more or less. He reads the news as well. But the details of dot-com crashes don’t interest him that much. He doesn’t add anything more to this and continues to read his own paper.

 

“I’ve signed up for a woodworking class this semester,” Cas tells Meg. They’re on the couch and Meg is almost sitting in his lap, legs draped over him.

“Why?” she says without looking away from the magazine she’s holding above her face, scribbling on the pages.

“Why not? I need more non-academic skills for my portfolio. We’re probably gonna start our careers in the middle of a recession and I need something that distinguishes me from other candidates.”

“And you think woodworking will grant you a spot in an office cubicle?”

“If the cubicle position gives me a chance to work my way up, then yes.”

“Huh,” she says.

“What? Aren’t you at least a little bit worried about your future?”

“That’s interesting,” she says and sits up.

“I have a feeling you’re not listening anymore.”

“Look at this,” she says and shows him the open page in the magazine. “My next boyfriend’s name will start with a letter from A to E.”

“Okay?”

“Your name starts with a letter from A to E.” She’s grinning.

“So do lots of other names. Please, Meg, I’m trying to be serious here. This is our last year of college and I have no idea what to do with my life. I don’t not know what kind of job I want, I don’t know where my relationship with Mick is going—”

“Wait,” she says and puts a finger on Cas’s lips. “Did I miss something? Is there trouble in paradise? What’s up with you and Mick?”

He fumbles with Meg’s hand to free his mouth and says, “I don’t know. I guess nothing’s wrong yet. But what’s it gonna be like next year? I’m afraid he’s going back to England.”

“Did he say so?”

“No… Meg, he reads the Wall Street Journal! He talks about the stock market and shit all the time!”

Meg shakes her head in a manner that says _And?_

“I think he wants to go back to work in one of his father’s firms.”

“Did he mention any intention to do so?”

“No, he didn’t. But—”

“Knowing this stuff might be relevant to his studies or maybe he’s just genuinely interested. He _is_ kinda boring sometimes.”

“He’s not,” Cas pouts and right after that they hear the lock of the front door being opened. Mick is home.

“Hey,” he says and leans over the couch to give Cas a brief kiss.

“You look upset,” he notes when he’s sat down next to Meg.

“I’ll leave you to it,” Meg murmurs and gets up. “Talk,” she tells Cas with intent.

Mick scoots over and puts an arm around his shoulders. “Did something happen?” he asks.

“You aren’t gonna leave me, are you?” Cas says, his voice is trembling slightly.

Mick furrows his brows. “Why would you think I’m leaving you?”

“Are you going back home after college?”

Understanding dawns on Mick’s face. He takes a deep breath. “Cas,” he starts, “I haven’t… I haven’t really thought about this yet, but I love it here—I love _you._ ”

“So there is a possibility, if only a small one, of you going back to England?”

“Cas, don’t worry, okay? I have a few very important courses this semester and then there’s still another one before we’re being handed our diplomas. I can’t tell you because I haven’t decided anything yet. But I can promise you that, whatever happens, we’ll figure it out.”

Cas flings his arms around Mick’s neck, burying his nose in his hair. “I love you so much.” He doesn’t want to cry because Mick is still here and he might not be leaving at all—still, he can’t hold back a few tears.

“Hey,” Mick says, rubbing a hand up and down Cas’s back, “don’t. I’m here.”

They talk a long time after that. Meg joins them again. No-one really knows where they’re headed. Uncertainty sucks but the sheer amount of possibilities ahead of them is also kinda intriguing.

Whatever happens, they’ve still got another year.


End file.
